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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25652821">sleepyhead</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/nonopiimagines/pseuds/nonopiimagines'>nonopiimagines</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Established Relationship, F/M, Farren Wright (OC) - Freeform, Swearing, based entirely off of the fact that his character never sleeps in the game, celebradiation2020, that's not normal buddy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 02:07:26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>785</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25652821</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/nonopiimagines/pseuds/nonopiimagines</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Charon doesn't sleep, he doesn't dream. </p>
<p>for my Celebradiation 2020 giftee, tarberrymentats/synchnexus! &lt;3</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Charon (Fallout)/Female Lone Wanderer, Charon (Fallout)/Lone Wanderer</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>39</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>sleepyhead</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/radioaktiv/gifts">radioaktiv</a>.</li>



    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Charon doesn’t sleep. He can’t remember if he ever did. He can’t remember much at all from before. </p>
<p>He spent a lot of his life not addressing those thoughts. But something about this woman, clad in her bright blue vault suit, her big smile and her glowing hair had infected him. It made him wonder.</p>
<p>Nights like these when he was laying down next to her, feigning sleep while she snored lightly beside him, the questions called for him. Was there a before? Was there an end? And where was he now? He tried to remember bits and pieces, create something from nothing. But he was only made for destruction.</p>
<p>“Tell me about your dreams.” She had just told him about hers, nightmares from her escape from Vault 101. He already knew because he was right beside her while it was happening. He may not have known the subject matter at the time, but he knew she was distressed. All he could do was wait for her to wake up and then hold out his arms for her, bringing her shaking form closer, kissing her crown of strawberry hair.</p>
<p>“I don’t dream,” he lied. Or maybe it was the truth. He doesn’t dream because he doesn’t sleep. </p>
<p>Dogmeat barks from his position in between them, as if he’s calling Charon out on his untruths. He rubs his tattered hand on his belly, admitting defeat. “I can’t dream.”</p>
<p>Her eyes are blue and unending, like the sky in spring, something he’s seeing more often being at her side. He holds her stare, daring her to ask more questions, to find truths to the questions he can’t answer.</p>
<p>“Come here,” Farren beckons with one arm, maneuvering Dogmeat to the opposite end of the bed with the other. “Come here.”</p>
<p>He doesn’t know what she wants or what she expects from him, but he scoots closer nonetheless, letting her pull him into an embrace, letting his head fall on her bosom. The heartbeat echoes out of her chest and into his mind, a rhythmic lullaby that guides him into relaxation. His jaw unclenches, his fingers unfurl themselves from their fist, and he closes his eyes. Her fingers tentatively draw across his brow, grazing along his scalp, and then returning back around again. Petting his head like she would a child’s, but he couldn’t bring himself to move away. Maybe he too needed comfort. Something he was denied for a long time. Something he may have been denied forever.</p>
<p>The plane of darkness stretches before him. He’s been here before, a place between resting and sleeping. It’s been a long time and he’s fallen into it so fast with Farren’s heartbeat holding him entranced. Normally this would be his realization that would jolt him into waking, but with Farren here, holding him safe and Dogmeat keeping his feet warm, he was encouraged to keep going. </p>
<p>Soon he was drifting, feeling his body lift weightless into the void. Everything else faded away. No more sensations, no more hesitation, no more thoughts blocking his way. </p>
<p>If this is sleeping, he wouldn’t have to run away anymore.</p>
<p>---</p>
<p>He awoke to sharp barks coming from downstairs, followed by clattering noises and Farren’s distinct voice trying to calm the large dog down. Charon wasted no time hopping out of bed, grabbing his revolver, and marching downstairs, ready to beat the shit out of anyone willing to barge into their home and frighten his--</p>
<p>“Pancake batter is not for dogs!” Farren was on her hands and knees, pushing away Dogmeat’s face incessantly lapping at the floor for stray globs of pancake batter. An upside-down bowl and wooden spoon lay a few steps away. He could only guess what was going on.</p>
<p>If there was one thing scarier than a home invasion, it was Farren getting anywhere near a stove or open flame with the intention of cooking.</p>
<p>“Good morning, sleepyhead,” she called over her shoulder as cheery as ever.</p>
<p>He left his revolver on the table and effortlessly lifted Dogmeat into the air so Farren could finish cleaning up the spilled batter. She took a moment to marvel at his strength before quickly wiping up the rest of the spill and picking up the bowl and spoon to dump them unceremoniously on the table. </p>
<p>“I’ve never seen you sleep so soundly,” she said after a moment of silence. Her gaze followed Dogmeat as he was back on his feet, sniffing the floor thoroughly for more batter but finding none. “And the best thing to wake up to is pancakes.” </p>
<p>“Dogmeat likes them.” </p>
<p>She laughed, mirthful, youthful, and full of hope. Charon pulled her into a hug, feeling a weight beginning to lift off his shoulders.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>find me on tumblr @nonopiimagines</p></blockquote></div></div>
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